


Stripes

by GuileandGall



Series: Free To Be [9]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:49:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2659292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remy's ink stands out. It's nothing like Matt recalls seeing before and she displays it without reservation. But it's not flashy. In fact while there are shapes he can recognize, he's certain there is something more to the bold black markings than just aesthetics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stripes

**Author's Note:**

> prompt sent in by Celesteennui: "Stripes"

**Stripes**

Matt let his eyes move over the symbols that covered Remy's arms. They weren't woven together like he had seen some sleeves done, this felt more ordered, very much like her. There was an open eye on her shoulder, as he traced the lid with his index finger the boss peeked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes moved from his face to her shoulder and back again.

"What?" Her voice was calm, almost tender as she leaned back against him.

He moved cautiously. It was much like hunting rabbits or some other skittish animal, or so he assumed, though this rabbit could devour him and spit him out whole with the barest misstep.  Resting his hand on her arm, his thumb rubbed against the black ink marking her skin. He pressed his lips to her shoulder, letting them brush her skin gently as he asked, "Are these like your stripes?"

Her brow furrowed at him.

"You know? The way you show what you've done? Or proof?"

When she sat up, Matt screwed his eyes shut tight, almost certain that was the end of the conversation. But she just sat there, elbows on her knees with her hands and forearms stretched out slowly in front of her as she looked at it. Her thumb traced one of the decorative designs that looped her left wrist. "It is proof, but not what you're thinking. It's not about kills or job. It's my life--" her head turned and those steel blue eyes met his "--my story. Some of its cut into and through my body, but not everything leaves a physical scar." Her voice softened as her eyes returned to those bands on her wrist.

Matt sat up behind her, running his hand up her spine. "Will you tell me one?"

Remy looked at him quickly.

"I'd really like to hear a piece of your story," he reinforced with a kiss to her shoulder and a gentle caress down her arm. When his hand reached hers, the boss allowed Miller to lace his fingers with his, and raise them to his mouth.

"I reserve the right to decline."

He would not have been able to disguise the pleased smile that curved his mouth. He searched her arms, there were several he wondered about ones he noticed her touch absently from time to time, but Matt worried about pushing too hard too fast. The few times he had McGinnis had closed up on him like a clam. He loosed her hand turning her hand so he could view the marks on her inner arm. Finally his hand stopped; his thumb rubbing around the circle of the sign just below the bend of her left elbow.

"What's this one?"

The half smile seemed relatively relaxed as Remy turned and laid her arm out for him to view it properly. "It's the symbol for Perseus, as you probably know that was my brother's name. That's what this one is for--kind of a memorial but also in honor of him. He took care of me as best he could after my father died. Even after he got hurt Percy was still my anchor in a lot of ways."

"You two were really close?"

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "But I'm not sure if it was by choice or necessity. We spent summers and weekends in the woods."

"All year round? Even winter?"

"Especially winter. Dad was a staunch survivalist. Dead set determined to make sure that if he taught us one thing it was how to stay alive." Her tone darkened and petered off as her eyes locked on her own thumb that was tracing over the lines. "Guess one out of two isn't a bad ratio."

Matt grabbed her arm before she stood. She glanced at it for a moment and he recognized the sharp look that completed the response he chalked up to instinctual. His other hand moved to the back of her neck. "It's an amazing ratio," he reassured as he rested his forehead against hers.

"Yeah, but your biased."

"Extremely," Matt agreed with a soft smile that melted against her soft lips.

\---


End file.
